The Perilious Days of Robert Phillip
by Dare5
Summary: Robert is wondering if Giselle knows where the babies come from - and hopes that it won't be him who has to tell her.
1. Day One

**Title: **The Perilious Days of Robert Phillip (1/3)  
**Author: **ArcAlatus  
**Rating: **PG-13 (nothing bad, I think - they are kissing, though and, erm, something is implied)  
**Characters/Pairings: **Robert/Giselle, cameo by Sam  
**Disclaimer:** "Enchanted" and all related character belong to Disney and I don't own them or make any money with them.  
**Summary:** Robert is wondering if Giselle knows where the babies come from - and hopes that it won' be him who has to tell her.  
**Note:** English is NOT my primary language. Please bear with me.

It's kind of a epilogue for the movie. There was an interesting conversation on Enchanted's IMDb board about whether or not Disney Princesses know about all the circumstances of children and how they come into the world. Things then got a bit out of control when people started debating if Disney characters have all the anatomical necessities and such, but I won't get into that. I'll assume they know everything about it, but just handle it according to the rules of fairy tales: they get it on while the credits are shown!!! ;)

Furthermore some said that the sweet, nice girls are probably the kinkiest and that, if Giselle doesn't know what's going on in the wedding night, she would acknowledge it with an delighted "Oh my!". If you have time, read about it – it was really funny.

This story, maybe rated PG-13 is about this topic. I had a ball writing it, so I hope you'll enjoy reading it, also.

BTW, English is not my first language, so bear with me.

THE PERILIOUS DAYS OF ROBERT PHILLIP  
Day One  
by Arc

Robert Philip was a nice guy. Patient. Tolerating. Compassionate. Sometimes a bit cynical, but a loving father. He was a divorce attorney so he was used to every kind of ugly, emotional stuff the world was offering.

He was strong. Nothing could shake him.

However, when a girl named Giselle walked into his life his entire save world turned around and left him falling. For her.

She was the something wonderful that had happened to him. Constantly sparkling. Beaming. A radiant person in every sense of the meaning.

She was a walking, talking, breathing enchantment and though he was burning with love for her and was learning to find out what made her tick, still, she left him with astonishment practically every day.

She was too good to be true, he realized, when he watched her tug in Morgan, his little daughter. Giselle was patient and kind – and loved Morgan as if she was her own.

She was sweet and considerate around him – and funny, but yet, he realized, there was a tiny bit that made him nervous about her.

Giselle was, at times, so good-natured and naïve, he wondered how much she knew about certain things. And he wondered how he was going to ask her about it. How he even should start a conversation about it.

He was a manly man and had been steeling himself for Morgan's sake to have that kind of conversation with his daughter one day. About the flowers and the bees, that is. When Morgan was ready to date being twenty. Or thirty. Or never.

But having to talk about certain things with your girlfriend?

He didn't even know how old Giselle was. She could be twenty, she could be thirty, it was impossible to determine – and didn't they have schools with attached biology lessons on Andalasia, for goodness' sake?

Robert Philip was having nightmares about certain things recently. How he had a conversation with Giselle, blushed so hard that he had to be afraid that one of his arteries might burst and how she stared at him with large, wondrous, innocent eyes and said that one thing:

"Oh, my!"

"You seem not to have slept very well, Robert," Giselle told him one morning. His name rolled melodiously over her tongue in a way that made him -

Robert grabbed his cup of coffee and gulped down a mouthful, wishing once in his life that it was something stronger. "No," he managed. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Morgan poked her breakfast. "You are kinda red. Are you really all right, Daddy?"

Both girls stared at him, until he finally got up. "School," he said. "And I have yet to shower."

Then, he fled the room.

When he arrived at work, Sam opened her mouth to inform him of today's schedule, noticed the look on his face and closed her mouth, only to open it again. Out came nothing remotely connected to today's schedule.

"Are you alright? You seem ill," Sam noted.

Robert rushed through the corridor and nodded with a forced smile at some of his superiors. "'Morning. I'm fine," he whispered through his teeth. "'Morning. Good morning. No really, I'm fine."

Sam stared at him doubtfully. "You seem pale – and there are huge circles under your eyes."

Robert looked at his secretary and stopped when they arrived in front of his office door. Sam was a girl, he realized. Well, she was a woman. But she was his secretary. He couldn't possibly ask her ...

No. No, no, no.

That would be highly unprofessional and unfair, since he didn't want to dump anything personal onto her shoulders. However, being a carrier of the infamous XX-chromosomes, he at least tried to fish for some information.

"You met Giselle, right?"

"From Andalusia?"

"Andalasia. Yes. Exactly."

"The crazy girl?"

"That happened to move in with me?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah."

Sam didn't even blink. "Crazy, but lovely. What about her?"

"She – erm, did she seem to you anything else but crazy, when you met her?" Robert asked.

Sam blinked, once. "That depends. Am I going to get fired if I say something all too negative?"

"If you just stay polite, I'll reconsider," Robert offered.

Sam laughed. "Well, she was lovely. And cute. And nice, but --"

"But?"

"She had that kind of attitude ... as if she were from Smallville. Or Oz. Or Narnia. And I don't know how she handles a world like New York," Sam said. She shrugged.

"From what I've seen she doesn't have to get used to the world of New York. The world of New York gets used to her. Remember Mr. and Mrs. Banks?" Robert asked. "Got divorced, argued, screamed at each other and then ..."

There was some awe in the lower layers of Sam's tone. "Yeah. Crazy, huh? Divorcing over some baseball card and now on a plane to Hawaii for a second honeymoon."

Honeymoon, Robert thought. His mind travelled towards a white, sandy beach, the azure sea, Giselle, wearing a red bikini, laughing, throwing water at him, the hotel room, the sleeping arrangements, a king-sized bed ...

A moment of silence, then: "Thanks, Sam." Robert entered his office and left the world behind, breathing heavily.

"Oh God. Oh - oh God. I have to tell her. I have to talk to her." He took another deep breath. "I mean, they do reproduce on Andalasia somehow, don't they? She had animal friends – they do reproduce, too. She has to know something about it. Right? Right?"

He buried himself in work. Until the afternoon, that was --

It knocked on his door. The files, the papers formed mountain ranges and Robert was climbing something which seemed to be the Eiger north face.

"Come in," he called, expecting Sam.

It was Giselle.

"Hello, Robert." She smiled warmly at him. She was wearing her self-made flower dress and had her hair in a pony tail.

'Hello-Robert' felt an ever growing warm sun evaporating in his stomach. "Giselle," he greeted her, while getting up. He fixed his tie nervously. "What are you doing here?" Then, he noticed the tray: A sandwich, a cup of tea, a salad and a single, yellow flower in a small vase.

"I wanted to visit you and Sam was about to bring you your lunch and so I offered to hand it over." There was a certain amount of insecurity in her smile. "Not good?"

"Wha – no! No, that's great. Perfect, really," he got up and moved stuff from one corner of his desk to another until there was enough room to place down the tray.

After placing down the tray, she straightened her posture again and turned towards Robert, smiling, only to be pulled by him into a bear hug.

It was so good to feel her, especially when he noticed The Glaring Himalaya Mountain Range of Paper Work (tm).

"Are you fine?" she asked, her voice muffled.

His grip tightened a bit. "I'm fine. I'm just --" Taking a huge breather of jasmine, and sunshine and forest, he held her at arm's length, searching for her eyes. "It's been a really exhaustive day," he told her. "Two divorces before breakfast, lots of paperwork, people screaming at each other, screaming at, well, me ..." He shook his head.

Compassion was gleaming in her eyes when she draw him in again for a hug. "I'm sorry that things are so stressful lately," she said earnestly. "And I am sorry that I am no help at all."

He grinned against the side of her neck. "You're more help than you know, Giselle."

He fell back into one of the seats, usually reserved for his 'costumers', taking Giselle with him. She giggled and hugged him even harder, then found a quite agreeable position on his lap.

"This is comfortable," she announced, smiling at him. She hesitated and added: "You are comfortable."

She turned away to reach for the tray but Robert noticed her blush anyway.

"I brought you a club sandwich, Greek salad and Sam said that you drink too much coffee, so she chose to make you some tea," Giselle explained happily. "Is that fine with you?" There was hope in her eyes and Robert grinned.

"It's perfect – and even more so since you brought it." He stole a quick kiss from her lips and then attended the food. "Aren't you hungry, too?"

"No. Today, I went to a place called Delhi's Delicious and tried something called Laddoo. It was very, well, delicious," she smiled. "So, go ahead."

"Had a nice day? Any singing?" Robert asked, while opening the sandwich's package.

"Well, no. It was tempting, but no. Furthermore it's not so much fun when you're not around." She smiled and watched Robert biting into his sandwich. "I met Clara again – the woman who met Edward on the bus? She was so unhappy, all alone, but soon, she is going to marry Harry."

"Harry?" Robert asked, munching. He had a vague idea about what was to come.

"Yes, Harry," Giselle told him happily. "They met in the park today. We're invited to their wedding. They are such a cute couple: she is eighty-two and he is eighty-nine and they are so much in love."

There was something magical about her, most definitely, while chewing on the sandwich and finishing off the last piece.

She continued. "It's really nice to make new friends and – oh." She smiled and reached up with her hand to touch his chin. "You are making such a mess." She reached for the napkin and turned back to remove a bit of tomato from his chin. The moment her skin made contact with his, he felt the bolt of electricity.

And he knew she was feeling it, too.

There was a long moment between them and Robert watched breathlessly as her hand wandered over early stubbles on his chin, up towards the side of his head.

He carefully removed the napkin from her hand and drew her closer.

"You - you had something on your chin," she whispered when their noses touched. Her eyes fluttered close and she sighed softly.

He felt the tip or her nose softly gliding over his cheek and suddenly, he remembered high school. The butterflies, the exhilarating feeling ...

Her warm breath touched his lips when he kissed her and pulled her closer. She was awfully skinny, he realized, and light as a feather. Her lips were so warm, so inviting – and he almost accidentally bit her out of shock when he felt her inadvertently grind against him once.

After that, things got a little out of control.

He deepened the kiss, while she flung her arms around his neck, pulling him towards herself. Clothes were the only things separating them now, and Robert wondered for a moment if she, in the face of his desperation, knew, after all about it.

Maybe certain movements didn't happen inadvertently after all.

And just in that very moment, someone had to knock on the door and both of them, out of sheer surprise that someone beyond them existed on this world, toppled over, along with the chair.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Now, you have tomato all over your --" Giselle said, laying atop of him.

"I know, I know," Robert said.

Giselle tried to remove the tomato from his suit and tried to get up at the same time while chattering endlessly about how sorry she was.

Robert grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him. "It's okay. It's okay, Giselle. I'm fine, really. Just my pride hurts a bit."

"But you are --" She looked at him with those huge, helpless eyes.

"Giselle," he interrupted. "Everything is just fine. And no matter how much I'd like to continue --" It knocked again, this time more fiercely. He closed his eyes for a second, then looked back at the girl in his arms. "No matter how much I'd like to continue this, we have to get up."

She smiled cautiously at him, but when she saw all the love and affection in his eyes, her smile grew to a full fledged grin. "Fine," she said and helped him to get up.

Sam finally came in, left some files on his desk and hurried out to get a spare suit for Robert, while Giselle was innocently sitting on one of the chairs, her legs folded under her. She watched Robert with a dreamy and thoughtful smile and he looked up from all his papers for a second and winked at her.

Giselle blushed and smiled back.

Small wheels had started to turn behind her forehead.

End Part One.


	2. Day Two

**Title: **The Perilious Days of Robert Phillip (2/3)  
**Author: **ArcAlatus  
**Rating: **PG-13 (nothing bad, I think - they are kissing, though and, erm, something is implied)  
**Characters/Pairings: **Robert/Giselle, cameo by Sam and Morgan  
**Disclaimer:** "Enchanted" and all related character belong to Disney and I don't own them or make any money with them.  
**Summary:** Robert is wondering if Giselle knows where the babies come from - and he starts to suspect something.  
**Note:** English is NOT my primary language. Please bear with me.

NOTE #1: This is a bit longer than expected. I am sorry. I kinda got carried away.

NOTE #2: English is still not my mother tongue, so please accept my humble apologies for all my grammatical and other mistakes.

NOTE #3: Despite the fact that Mrs. Harline is very, uhm, well, straight forward, she is really a nice person, just a little bit scary. That doesn't make lots of sense but maybe some of you know the Indian actress Rekha? If you know her, you'll know what I mean. For the Trekkies among us, she's maybe Lwaxana Troi meets Morticia Addams. You know, like a firework: Kinda nice to look at it from afar, but you really don't want one within a radius of, let's say, twenty centimetres. And Mrs. Harline is a very special firework.

NOTE #4: Gee. This is REALLY very long. Again, I'm sorry.

NOTE #5: Remember the theory: The nicest girls are sometimes the kinkiest. ;)

THE PERILIOUS DAYS OF ROBERT PHILLIP  
Day Two  
by Arc.

Robert was pacing in front of the bath room. He was playing with his tie again and stared, whenever he was passing it, into the mirror in the hall to check his appearance.

"This tie is ridiculous, right? Oh, I think I'll take another one," he said and headed for the bedroom.

Luckily, Sam, his secretary, was there to stop him.

"That would be the sixth tie this evening and it's not even eight o'clock," she admonished him, made him stand still and fixed the piece of clothing around his neck.

Robert shook his head. "We're going to be late."

Morgan was peeking around the corner of her own room and sighed. "No, you're not, daddy. You still have plenty of time."

"Still, what is she doing in there?" Robert asked, pointing at the bathroom door. "She in there for ages."

"For twenty minutes," Sam noted, watching her employer pace. "Gee, sir, what could possibly go wrong?"

Robert stared at her for a moment, then shook his head again. "I'd rather not think about it, thank you very much." He strode over to the door and knocked. "Giselle?"

"Come in!" a female voice chirped from the inside.

Robert had learnt from past mistakes. "You _are_ dressed, aren't you?" He practically felt Sam raising an eyebrow behind him and cringed internally. He liked Sam, but there were some things of his private life and the past tumultous few days he preferred to keep, well, _private_, from her.

Before he could react or justify himself, Sam pushed him gently aside and moved in, not before shooting him a long, knowing glance. Robert heard a familiar conversation from the inside of the bathroom.

"Are those birds?"

"Oh, they are my friends. They helped me to get dressed," he heard Giselle say with a giggle in her voice.

"Rrrright. Now, come on out. He's getting a heart attack out there," Sam said and lead the young woman out.

Robert saw the door open hesitantly, and then, Giselle stepped out, being all smiles. He just stared as she twirled in front of him, wearing one of her self-made dresses. "Well?" She sounded a bit unsure. "Do you like it?"

She looked at him, waiting for a response, and when he gave none, Sam and Morgan started to stare at him, too.

"Daddy," Robert's young daughter whispered sharply and that made him react.

"You," he cleared his voice and ignored the small laughter from his daughter and Sam, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "You look – beautiful. Enchanting, really."

Sam examined the girl with mock seriousness. "Yeah, red's definitely her colour, isn't it?" She winked and Morgan and the girl giggled at her speechless father, at Giselle, who was happily blushing and at the secretary, who was probably thinking the same as she was.

"I'm glad you like it." Giselle grinned, "It's part of my Andalasia Fashion collection. It's an evening dress."

"Yeah," Robert said, his voice suddenly dry. "I can see that."

"Not appropriate?" Giselle asked.

Robert considered her question. They were going to the birthday party of one of his senior partners. It was a huge affair – everyone was required to attend in evening attire. The average age of the assembled attendant crowd was about fifty – so all present males would probably envy Robert and the present females would either hate Giselle (which was unlikely) or dote on her. All of them were the grandmother type, the eccentric-aunt-type or the Betty-Ford-type.

"No, it's perfect," he finally said.

Giselle's smile grew and she straightened some imaginary wrinkles of her clothing. "Thank you," she answered, almost shyly.

Robert nodded. "Okay, let's go. Morgan, you behave." He raised a finger at her. "No wild parties, no strippers. Listen to Sam's each and every command."

"Oh, daddy," the little girl smiled, as she hugged him. She released him and threw herself at Giselle, who hugged her back.

"Thanks for watching her, Sam," Robert smiled. "We'll be back before midnight."

"We'll get rid of the strippers until then," Sam promised, when Morgan returned to her side.

"Thank you," Robert told her earnestly. "Bye!"

"Bye!" Giselle waved. "Have fun!"

"But not too much fun," Robert growled, but Giselle, laughing, just grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the door.

When they finally sat in the cab, heading for the event, Giselle could barely contain herself. "Oh, I'm so much looking forward to meeting all your co-workers. Will Mr. and Mrs. Banks be there?"

"Er, no, they are still on honeymoon."

Giselle smiled her huge, toothy smile. "That's so romantic, don't you think?"

"Yeah." Robert could just stare at her, being helplessly in love with the woman clinging on his arm. In love with and in awe of her. "So romantic."

While Giselle continued talking, he watched her and tried to sort things out. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Inside and outside.

And that little encounter in his bureau had made him realize just what was under all her dresses and pyjamas. He loved her so much and he yearned to show her, but she was so – so --

"I am, though, a little bit anxious. What if they don't like me? Your boss doesn't like me, that's for sure, isn't it?" she asked. By the looks of it, she truly seemed bothered by this information.

Robert returned to reality. "Don't worry. He'll love you."

Giselle remained skeptical. "You think?"

Robert took her hand, looked her in the eyes and kissed her knuckles. "In the end, they all do."

And her warm, bubbly laughter carried them into the night.

When you are a normal human being, a regular man struggling to be strong for your daughter, fate watches you, but usually it's otherwise occupied. With the third prince whose older brothers have already been eaten by the dragon. With the boy that pulls the sword out of the stone. With the princess that sleeps for a hundred years. You know the drill.

If your girlfriend however is a princess at heart – a pure, ethereal being too good to be true, fate throws all it's attention at you. The kind of attention that resembles a baseball, thrown at you with 234 miles per hour, already aflame. It will hit you hard the moment you expect it least.

If we imagine fate as a person, it becomes Fate. And Fate stared down at our couple, smiling mischievously. In one hand, she (assuming Fate is a woman) swings a baseball bat quite professionally and she's wearing a baseball helmet with a sticker on it that says:

"Reality is where the pizza comes from."

"All right then," she calls.

The Pitcher, a tall man with glowing golden eyes, throws the ball and Fate hits it effortlessly.

It flies high up into the skies where all the stars are glowing and watching Earth.

"Do you think they'll know?" the Pitcher asks, his hand risen to his forehead. He watches the ball fly away.

"No, LaChance." Fate smiles at the Pitcher. "They never know."

The baseball flies towards Robert Phillip with a speed of 234 miles per hour. We leave the metaphorical level now and return to reality.

Giselle and Robert leave the cab and enter the hotel. The moment they disappear through the large doors, opened by a man in a red uniform who tips his head, another car arrives and the driver opens the door.

A woman, clad in red steps out of the car, accompanied by a man who looks like that guy you expect to say "Ho-ho-ho," in winter. It's not _him_, though, but they are related at heart.

The baseball has arrived.

"Happy birthday," Robert said the moment he met Paul Smith, he senior partner.

The elderly man smiled gently. "Robert. It's so good to see you." They shook hands, then Smith noticed Giselle and raised a couple of bushy eyebrows.

"This is Giselle," Robert introduced her. "My – girlfriend," he said with minimal hesitation. It got easier every time he introduced her.

Giselle smiled her radiant 100-watt-smile. "A belated and very happy birthday, Mr. Smith," she said and her grin grew even more. "It is so kind of you to invite us. And it's such a wonderful celebration." She pointed towards all the people in the room, buzzing with excitement.

_Here we go again_, Robert through with an amused smile when he noticed Giselle noticing Mrs. Smith. The elderly woman was eying her suspiciously.

"And you must be Mrs. Smith," Giselle grinned at the woman. She was a Betty-Ford-kind-of-type with a glass of champaign in her hand. "I envy you."

Mrs. Smith stared at Giselle. "For what?"

"For spending such a long period of time with your beloved," Giselle smiled. "You see, I have been with Robert for just twenty-two days."

"Twenty-two days," Mrs. Smith repeated, not entirely sure what to make of Giselle and her infectious optimism. She was torn between staring at the young woman and emptying her glass.

"Yes." Giselle turned to Robert and beamed at him. "And tomorrow, it will be twenty-three days."

"Young love, apparently," Mrs. Smith said with some astonishment, as if examining a rare flower thought to be almost extinct.

"Yes," Robert repeated, staring at the girl with equal astonishment. Then he remembered his surroundings and cleared his throat. "Yeah. Young love."

"Maybe you should go over to the buffet. We have oysters and chocolate cream over there," Mr. Smith noted good-naturedly and winked.

"Oh, that sounds yummy," Giselle answered, not getting the innuendo, before Robert dragged her away. "Oysters are some kind of clams, are they not?"

"Yeah," Robert said. "They are some kind of clams." Apparently, they didn't have the same reputation in Andalasia as they did in New York. "Let's see what else the buffet offers."

He was just about to move again, when he heard a new voice.

"Robert Phillip." It was a female voice, a little bit raspy, trying desperately to sound alluring, when it was really sounding like nails on a chalk board.

Giselle stared down at her arm which Robert grasped. He paled visibly and froze, before slowly turning around to face the owner of the voice.

"Mrs. Harline," he managed, but Mrs. Harline did two steps and was already in the middle of Robert's personal space, ignoring Giselle completely.

"My dear," she said, trailing Roberts chin and his neck. "I haven't seen you for so long." Her hands wandered to his chest. "And, my, my." Her eyebrows rose. "Have we been working out?"

Robert remembered past encounters with Mrs. Harline. She derived some kind of devilish amusement by driving Nancy up the walls – and Nancy was only all the eager to follow each and every cue. They had been at each other's throat during a Christmas Party and two birthdays.

"Ahem," Robert stepped back from the woman dressed in red. "Meet Giselle. She's --"

"Nancy's replacement?" Mrs. Harline demanded and eyed her up.

"No, I am his --"

"The love of my life." He looked at Giselle and allowed himself to smile at her.

Giselle just stared at him, speechless. He felt her hand tightening it's grip on his arm and there was something wet shining in her eyes.

"The love of my life," he repeated, this time much firmer. "Giselle, meet Mrs. Harline. She is Mr. Harline's wife, one of the senior partners of my firm."

Giselle wasn't furious like Nancy had been that last time, but her smile was a bit dimmed when she extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

And just as Robert was to say something, he noticed Mrs. Harline stare at Giselle in a way he had never seen her before. "Thank you," Mrs. Harline said, very slowly. Her eyes grew smaller. "Where did the two of you meet?"

"Ohh!" A smile lit up Giselle's face. "He caught me falling from a castle."

Mrs. Harline rolled her eyes. "No, really? Figures."

"Excuse me?" Giselle asked, but the elderly woman just shook her head. "Why don't you go and look for my husband, Robert, dear, and I go and talk to Giselle for a bit."

"You want to --? Talk to Giselle?" Robert asked. Usually, she was after him, either hitting on him or trying to matchmake him with some random female eymploye that wandered by, just to see Nancy fume and explode. "But – why would you ... ?"

Mrs. Harline's look said it all and Robert scurried away. He looked back at Giselle, who threw him a helpless glance when Mrs. Harline lead her towards the champaign pyramid, before disappearing in the crowd.

Seconds later, he bumped into Mr. Harline.

"Robert!" He noticed the man's pale face. "Already met my wife?"

"Yeah," he said. "She disappeared with my girlfriend. I wonder what's on her mind."

Mr. Harline, a man that looked like Santa Clause, smiled. "Never try to figure out what's on women's mind. You'll never find out." He offered him a glass of champaign. "However, I'd die to meet your new girlfriend. Giselle, right?"

"Yes," Robert nodded, sipped at his glass and scanned the crowd for Mrs. Harline and Giselle.

Mr. Harline continued talking. "I heard about Mr. and Mrs. Banks. Quite astonishing. Quite astonishing. You see, my wife used to do that kind of thing, too. When she was younger, that is."

"Really?" Robert said, not really listening.

Mr. Harline noticed his lack of attention, but continued nonetheless, smiling a warm, kind and understanding smile. "Yes, we met, when --" He chuckled. "That was actually a really funny thing. She lost her shoe, you see, when she was climbing out of a manhole. I went all the way down to retrieve it for her. And that was quite an experience, I can tell you."

"A manhole," Robert repeated and slowly, a part of his mind lit a candle. He turned towards Mr. Harline. "A manhole?" he repeated.

"Yes. In the middle of Time Square." Mr. Harline raised his glass at Robert. "We still have all kinds of animals at our house. Primarily rats, flies and doves, of course, but during our first days we had a very interesting encounter at the Central Park Zoo with a lion, a zebra, a giraffe and a hippo. And now we house deers, a skunk, squirrels, racoons and a rabbit who is always late does my taxes. And we never needed a maid."

"You are kidding me," Roberts said.

Mr. Harline shrugged. "You are young, Robert. Think what ever gives peace to your mind. However I can assure, if that girl, Giselle, is what – _who_ – I think she is, you are in for quite an adventure. You'll never see chimneysweeps and umbrellas and roses and shoes and carpets the same way, I assure you."

Robert Phillip stared at Mr. Harline for a second, then he turned around. "Where's Giselle?"

"Robert --" Mr. Harline called, but Robert already started to comb the crowds. "Giselle?" He looked around. Colleagues, their wives, people he had never seen or met before ...

And then, over by the pyramid of champaign, he saw the two women talking. Mrs. Harline was smiling, while Giselle was listening to her with huge eyes. He shoved some people away, stepped around a servant, carrying some snacks and approached the two women.

He grasped Giselle's arm and turned towards Mrs. Harline.

"Robert," the elderly woman said, but Robert interrupted her.

"I'm sorry, but I have to talk to her," Robert said sharply, his gaze never leaving Giselle's opposite in case she turned into a dragon. "If you excuse us?" Then, he dragged her away.

"Robert?" Giselle tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he was determined and she had no choice but to follow him. "What's wrong? Is something wrong with Morgan?"

He pulled her towards the checkroom and noticed a kid behind the counter, reading comics and munching chewing gum.

"No, Morgan's fine." Lots of people were around here, some of them coming from the kitchen, some of them arriving, others leaving, so he opened the door to a closet, nudged Giselle to go inside, ignored all the interested, surprised and shocked glances, excused himself politely with a sharp bow, before following Giselle inside and closing the door behind him.

"Robert, what's wrong? Why are we here?" He saw her look around. "You see, this is a wardrobe and with wardrobes you should be careful since you never know where they lead to."

Robert grasped her hands. "Giselle, look at me."

"It _is_ very dark in here," she noted earnestly.

"Yes. Yes, I know. Just _try_ to look at me. And listen, okay?"

"Okay," she said hesitantly.

"That – that woman, Mrs. Harline – what did she tell you?" Robert asked.

"What do you mean? We just – talked," Giselle said and played with the tie of his suit. "She may seem very straight forward, but actually, she is very nice."

"Did you notice something strange about her?" Robert asked.

Giselle looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean – I mean ..." He grasped her hands even tighter. "I mean – is it possible that she is ... special?"

"Well, most certainly! Everyone is special! You, me, Morgan, Sam, Edward, Nancy – everyone is special in their own, unique way and --"

"_No!_ No, that's not what I meant." He let go of one of her hands and touched her chin, caressing it with the tip of his thumb. "I apologize if I sound a bit overprotective, but just days ago, a woman with a questionable sense of fashion transformed into a dragon before my very eyes and made me climb the Woolworth Building in a way I never dreamt of. You and Morgan are all I have and ... and ..." He drew her a bit nearer. "And if something happens to you ..." He searched her eyes. "If something happened to you ..."

Her eyes softened, and she, too, raised a hand to his face. "I am fine, Robert, and I will never leave you. And rest assured, Mrs. Harline poses no danger whatsoever."

Robert stared at the girl in his arms and kissed the palm of her hand. "She is from where you came from, isn't she?"

Giselle nodded. "Yes, she is. But she is not like Narissa. She is a princess, herself, you know?"

"A – a princess?"

"Who did find her prince – somewhere else," Giselle said softly, her hand trailing down his face to his neck and finally resting on his chest. She kissed him, softly and full of promise and Robert pushed the little voice away that was screaming at him to remember where he was, enumerating all the things that could happen to him if one of his senior partners found out that he was in a wardrobe, kissing a girl, making him remember that this was a public place – and, most of all, that there were beds for these kind of things.

But on the other hand ...

She was so soft, so warm ... she sighed whenever he kissed her and her hands were so smooth on his skin. And she was so ... innocent?

A part of him frowned, when he felt himself getting pushed against the wall of the wardrobe and Giselle was all over him. He couldn't do much besides helplessly whimpering, while she was kissing him with a fervour that was, for the lack of a better word, a bit alarming, but exhilarating nonetheless.

The kiss deepened, if that was even possible and Robert, every rational thought long gone, slid down the wall, taking Giselle with him. She produced a sound that resembled a moan and Robert felt a familiar fire building up within him and filling him completely.

Dizziness started to rise within him like a huge, warm, soft bubble. She smelt like forest and flowers, like sunshine and soap and suddenly, he felt one of her hands on his chest under his shirt on his bare skin.

A part of her clavicle and upper chest was touching his skin; it felt like lightning and a warm summer rain all at once. Her other hand was touching the side of his neck, reducing the space between them to a mere minimum and the voice in his head screamed at him: _Are you really going to this this in a wardrobe?_

She moaned, and this time, it was a real, full-fledged moan, not just a sigh, and then, she moved.

It felt accidentally, but it was impossible to find out if it really was. Just a slight move with her hips against his, her warm breath against his lips, his cheeks and his ear --

-- and Robert had to stop.

Giselle noticed immediately and rose a bit to give him a bit space, but each and every movement from her side only made it worse. He held her, stared at her and managed to smile, while controlling himself. He even managed to stroke her cheek, which was, considering the circumstances, a Herculean feat.

"Just – don't – move, please," he managed and Giselle stared at him with huge eyes.

"Are you hurting?" she wanted to know. "Are you – are you well? Is everything all right?"

_Am I hurting? Am I hurting?! _He asked himself, while watching her. _Hah!_

She actually panted a bit, and a lovely flush coloured her cheeks, while her eyes were sparkling with affection and worry in the semi-darkness of that wardrobe.

The way she looked at him didn't make it better – at all.

"No, I --" He cleared his throat and wet his lips."Not – exactly. It's, erm, maybe I'm a bit too – excited."

"Excited?" she repeated, baffled. "But excitement is a good thing!"

"Well, under certain circumstances, maybe, it's not a good thing," Robert croaked.

She moved again and Robert clung to her in desperation. "Please, Giselle, don't move!" He almost wailed now. "You're only making it worse!"

She stared at him, completely innocently and worried. "What am I making worse?"

Someone knocked at the door and Robert almost cursed.

First Sam a few days earlier and now that person on the other side.

"Yes?" Giselle chirped.

"Erm, are you all right?" a man on the other side asked. "Did someone faint in there?"

_Not yet,_ Robert thought. "No, everything's just – peachy. Just give us a second."

"Maybe we should go home," Giselle suggested. "You are pale and you are sweating. Maybe you're developing a cold."

Enlightenment hits you in the most unlikely places at the most unlikely times. Giselle moved to get up, but before doing so – and to Robert the entire thing suddenly happened in slow motion – she inadvertently moved her hips in an unfavourable way – _for him._

He groaned, looked up to her and saw her smile.

It was full of love, warmth and affection, as always, but there was also an un-laughed laughter, a kind of amusement in that smile he had never seen before.

And in that moment, lightning struck him.

She possibly knew _everything_.

End Part Two


	3. Day Three

Disclaimer: All characters seen or mentioned on „Enchanted" belong to Disney and are used without permission. Sueing me would be a waste of time, since there's nothing you'd get out of this.

Note: Concerning Robert's selection of movies: I wondered what kind of movies I'd watch with a fairy tale princess who is just getting used to our world represented by New York and, concerning television, such things as the FOX News or America's Funniest Homevideos. Figuring that she would be quite shocked or confused by some of that stuff, I guess Robert would settle for the classics. No Science Fiction and no Fantasy, as it would look more like a documentary for her ("Oh, I remember Aragorn. He is such a lovely king. His wife Arwen and myself enjoyed knitting together."), so maybe Audrey Hepburn or action adventures heavily depending on humour with a tad of romance. Just FYI, in case you find my choice weird.

THE PERILIOUS DAYS OF ROBERT PHILLIP  
Day Three  
by Dare.

There was Morgan.

Or rather: There was not Morgan.

And Robert Phillip was quite nervous about it. He was standing in the kitchen, wearing the remains of his suit: Jacket and tie were already gone, the upper buttons of his shirt opened and he ran his hand over his face: Up from his forehead to his chin, as if it was possible to straighten all the Wrinkles of Worry (tm).

Morgan was standing in front of the fridge, clinging to Giselle's clothes, while the red-haired young woman filled the small Cinderella-backpack in her hands with snacks and a cold beverages and handed it over to Morgan, who seemed unwilling to accept it.

"You have enough to eat, some sweets and something to drink. I also packed up your cap; it covers your ears and will warm them," Giselle told the little girl and smiled, when she saw Morgan's worried eyes. "We'll fetch you tomorrow at the station. You are going to have fun."

Morgan nodded, but was not ready to let Giselle go and take the backpack. She just looked at her with huge puppy eyes and an almost quivering lower lip. "You are not going to leave, are you?"

Giselle's expression softened and she knelt down, while putting the backpack away and taking Morgan's tiny hands instead. "Oh, no, sweetie, I am not. I will be there, with Robert, at the station, to pick you up and you'll tell me everything about your overnight stay." When Morgan didn't seem convinced, Giselle leant closer and gently touched the little girl's chin. "I promise."

That seemed to do the trick.

"Okay," Morgan nodded and finally took the backpack, clutching it to her body like some pink life belt. Robert watched the motion intently – and even more so, when Giselle bend down to hug his daughter. She was more loving and affectionate than he could ever expect a woman to be towards a girl that was not her daughter. Giselle was more loving than Morgan's own_ mother_ – and Robert took that as a very good sign.

It surprised and elated him – and still, he could not believe he was so lucky.

The door bell rang and both girls looked up.

"Here they are!" Giselle chirped. She got up and looked down at Morgan, offering her a hand. "I'll walk you down."

The words made Robert un-freeze. He moved towards his daughter and nodded. "Yes, me, too."

Morgan gazed at her father with a doubtful expression. "Uhm, dad? I mean, I'm just six, but I don't need both of you down there. Erika will be thinking that I'm a scaredy cat or something."

Robert stared at her with raised eyebrows, slightly surprised. He cleared his throat. "Well, if you think so." He hugged his daughter tightly, stroking her hair. When he held her at arm's length, he tried to stop himself from looking too worried. "Have fun."

"I will," Morgan promised.

"No strippers and no wild parties!" he told her with mock seriousness and a raised finger.

Morgan giggled and hugged him once more, burying her face in his clothes. "Yes, daddy."

Robert grinned and exchanged an amused glance with Giselle, then allowed her to lead his daughter downstairs.

He could hear their laughter and their conversation in the staircase, while he was standing in the door frame, listening intently.

It felt strange and comforting at the same time to have a third person living with them. Nancy had stayed for dinner, but never overnight. Also, her presence was enjoyable, but not peaceful. She was kind and friendly, but also very driven: she tried hard so Morgan would like her, she tried hard so Robert would forget his wife, she was so determined – it was flattering, Robert had to admit, because this was how Nancy showed her fondness, but it didn't exactly create peace or a homey feeling.

Giselle on the other hand was just – perfect. Quiet and comforting, but also encouraging, warm, humorous and intoxicating. The kind of ambition towards anything Nancy had approached was completely absent in Giselle's behaviour.

Morgan adored her -- everyone adored her -- and Giselle didn't even had to make an effort. She was thoroughly lovable – and charming.

_Lovable – and charming._

Robert blinked. _Somehow it's strange that she fell in love with me of all persons. _

When he tried to think about what adjectives would describe him best, he thought about ...

An entire army of descriptions burst through an inner door of some sorts and all of them just sounded horrible. They made him feel like a person that could not be trusted with a child. They made him remember Morgan's mother. They made him remember ...

Robert squeezed his eyes shot and tried not to think about it. It just wasn't worth it, he decided, because everything was perfect; everything was the forever and ever he had not believed in – and the only decision yet to be made was whether he had to buy a third bed or not.

The Third Bed.

A scary decision. It meant so much – the Third Bed meant that Giselle was staying, being Robert's ... _what_?

It meant they were sleeping separately, which was of course good, because everything needed time, things had to be taken slowly, he knew Giselle only for a month and what if their relationship would not work out?

That was what his mind was telling him, but his heart had an entirely different opinion on the matter.

Sleeping separately was a bad thing, the Third Bed was a bad thing, because Robert was in love. Deeply, madly, desperately. And he wanted to show her. And he was ...

"She will just thing that I'm a scaredy cat," he heard the voice of Morgan in his head.

Grabbing the bannister and leaning down, Robert watched Giselle waving for a last time at Morgan, tilting her head a bit so she could see the little girl until the last possible moment.

Pausing for a second, she still stared at wherever she had seen Morgan the last, sighed and ascended the stairs again. Robert watched her, smiled and greeted her at the door only to lead her back into the apartment, with a hand on the small of her back.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

Giselle turned and thought about the question. "Well, what do you do on weekends besides," she remembered their past activities during the last few weeks. "Going to the movies, visiting the museum or the Central Park, the Opera, the music hall or just go shopping?" Her blue eyes met his with sparkling curiosity. "Do you want to go out today?"

It took Robert a second to digest the entire list. "Uhm, well – how about this: We order pizza, stay at home and watch a movie or some TV for a change?" He nodded towards her clothes. "You could change into something more comfortable."

"Watching a movie," she repeated slowly. There was slight confusion in her voice. "You don't visit the theatre to see movies?"

Robert chuckled and walked towards the living room. "We can watch some of the older ones here." He bend towards the TV set and grabbed some DVDs. "They are all quite good," he said, while handing them over. "Here: _Casablanca_, _A Roman Holiday_, _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, _Indiana Jones_ or maybe _It's a Wonderful Life_."

Giselle read some of the descriptions on the backs of the DVD cases with intense scrutiny. "Oh, how about _It's a Wonderful Life?_ The title sounds nice."

_Figures,_ Robert thought and smiled. "All right. You change, I get the DVD ready."

Giselle handed him the DVD case, leaned over to kiss him and hurried off towards the bathroom. Robert watched her, a whirlwind of red hair and the scent of summer and flowers.

He turned towards the couch to remove the pillow and the blanket from there, but suddenly, all he could do was stare at the soft, white object in his hands. He lifted it to his nose; it smelled like her, as did the blanket and the feather-bed. A strange feeling rose within him; he suddenly didn't want to remove Giselle's makeshift bed at all, but they needed it for the evening and, he tried to remind himself: Maybe he could just move everything into his bedroom.

Giselle couldn't sleep on that couch forever, they didn't have a spare bed and he didn't want Morgan to sleep in his bed, so Giselle could sleep in Morgan's bed. Things had to change – quickly.

Or otherwise, he would go crazy.

The Third Bed.

He heard some rustling from the hall. "Robert?" Giselle asked in her melodious voice.

He turned towards the door. The red-haired young woman was wearing a pyjama they had bought her the other day. The fabric was red satin with some sunny coloured stripes on it. The socks, however, were a pair of his: white, soft and a bit too huge. Her hair was floating down onto her shoulders and she was sporting an inquisitive look on her face.

Robert, clutching the pillow and the feather-bed, stared at her, feeling like an idiot. But he just couldn't help himself ...

He swallowed a sandy hedgehog and regained his voice. "Erm, hey, you look – I mean, I really like your pyjama. Suits you." He smiled and tried to cover his nervousness by motioning towards the television. "Shall we?"

Giselle smiled warmly and something un-identified sparkled in her eyes. "Oh, yes," she said happily, floated over to the couch and sat down. Robert placed the pillow and the blanket onto an armchair and joined her, pointed the remote control at the DVD player, and seconds later, the movie started.

Moving his arm around her and pulling her up against him, she settled comfortably against his chest, snuggling into the fabric of his shirt. It was fun watching the DVD with her, since she laughed at the right moments, cried a bit and was moved to tears near the end.

Robert had seen the movie a hundred times since he had been a child, and every year at Christmas with Morgan, but it was an experience to watch it with Giselle, who was completely fascinated by the occurrence.

Turning halfway towards him, she searched for words. "That was just," she sniffed a bit. "_Wonderful._"

Robert smiled and removed the remnants of some tears from her cheeks. "I watch it with Morgan around Christmas. She loves it. Glad you like it, too."

"However, it made me cry," she said, noticing the wetness on Robert's fingertips. "Are all movies like this?"

"Well, not all of them. There are lots of badly made movies out there, or some of them are meant to make you laugh, or scare you." He nodded towards the shelf. "You have an entire library to explore."

She smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I am looking forward to it," she murmured, as he removed a strand from her forehead. "When Morgan comes back, she can announce recommendations."

"I'm really glad you get along with her so well," he said, then chuckled, drawing lazy circles on her upper arm. "In fact, if not for Morgan, I would have never met you."

"So we should be grateful," Giselle laughed, playing with Robert's fingers. She looked up again with sparkling eyes and noticed some worry in his eyes. Her smiled dimmed a bit. "What's the matter, Robert?"

Robert shrugged, watching their entwined fingers. "I just kinda wonder," he said. "I'm not Prince Edward. I'm not that dashing and outspoken and – I don't have his cheekbones." He laughed nervously, while she watched him intently, wondering what he was getting to. "We do not even share the same view on the most basic things, like romance and – and love ... and yet, you like me."

She tightened her grip around his hands and looked at him intently.

"You are very kind," Giselle said, with a certain amount of determination in her voice, as if there was no doubt about any of her words.

Robert scratched his stubbled cheek with his forefinger. "I'm grumpy."

She took his hand and caught it with her white, slender ones, stroking them."You are generous and humorous," Giselle persisted.

His voice grew softer. "I'm cynical and pessimistic," he said tenderly, leaning closer.

"You are not, when it comes to Morgan," Giselle whispered softly, removed one of her hands to touch the side of his cheek. He closed his eyes, partially out of reflex and to savour the feeling. She had the softest hands, always warm and dry and endearing ... and her scent ...

She was so close, he could feel the body heat radiating from the tip of her nose.

Their eyes met and it was only a weak smile, burdened with so much more when he said: "I cannot sing and I don't like to dance."

The affection in her eyes did a quantum leap and closing the distance between them, she kissed him, slowly and affectionately.

Warm breath tickled his lips, when she said:

"Yes, you can."

He kissed her again – she was soft and sweet and radiant and ... and ... _soft_.

I should get a thesaurus.

He felt her nibbling at his lower lip until the kiss deepened and her arms flung around his neck, pulling him closer.

_This couch is really comfortable,_ the last remaining piece of his mind told him, when he pulled her down (or was it her pushing him?). The entire matter oh-so-pleasantly gained steam, since it benefited from several factors, the two most prominent among them being:

Morgan was not there and Robert could not make out in the living room with his girlfriend, knowing that Morgan was just one wall away.

And:

The Girl from the Fairy Land felt _so_ good. He had already noticed that she was light as a feather, but also warm and very alive.

Her fingertips glided over his face, down his neck and towards the opening of his collar, leaving burning traces behind them.

There was a quick move and suddenly it was her, who was laying underneath him. He felt her form even more clearly than before and when her pyjama top slipped, along with his shirt, his and her skin just above the hip made contact.

A sudden wave of contentment, warmth and passion surged through him and he heard her exhale.

She was intoxicating, radiant and completely irresistible, and if he were to talk to her at any time, it had to be now, because he knew: The next thing he would remember was waking up with a naked, beautiful woman by his side in his bed.

"Giselle?" he whispered hoarsely.

Her arms were around his neck, one of them playing with the nape of his hair, the other way beyond his collar, somewhere on his left bladebone.

He searched for her eyes, meeting misty, blue depths and a face that rose towards his own, touching with the tip of her nose his cheek. Her lips were pink, slightly bruised and a bit wet, and when her tongue wetted them even more, Robert struggled for his reason.

"Why did we stop?" she whispered. She searched his eyes and examined the situation from her unique point of view and asked: "The same thing happened in your office. And in the wardrobe"

"Yes," Robert managed to nod. "Yes, I know." His hands slid to her tiny waist and encircled her there. He wondered how he should start this and tried the easiest way possible. "Do you know why Nancy was so angry that time? When you came out of the shower?"

He could see her confusion, but she also seemed to realize that this conversation was important to him. She didn't understand why, but even now, in the most heated of all conversations, she was willing to listen to him.

"She thought I might have kissed you," Giselle said. She squirmed a bit, possibly uneasy at the mentioning of Edward's new bride and the sudden change of subject.

Robert grimaced and tried to calm down. "Yes, yes, but, I mean – do you know why you are sleeping on the couch?"

Her eyes travelled to his and if Robert hadn't been pre-occupied, he would have noticed a light bulb there. Suddenly, the squirming and the uneasiness stopped, being replaced by something quiet and affectionate. She watched him intently, waiting.

"Because where else would I be sleeping?" Giselle said solemnly. "And you don't want Morgan to move."

She wasn't exactly making it easier for him. Robert was fishing for the right words. "You could sleep with me – I mean, you could sleep in my bed, and I would be sleeping in it, too."

She beamed. "I could? Oh, as far as I remember, you also have a television set in there! That would be lovely!"

Robert almost groaned. "Yeah, that would be lovely." He hesitated and stared at her, still meeting that look of curiosity.

Her hair was spread out on the cushion, one hand right next to her head, curling slightly, while the other was still by the side of his neck, caressing him softly.

He briefly considered the idea of letting all sanity go, while howling to the moon, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her over to his bedroom.

"Giselle," he started, moving his index finger to her strawberry coloured lips. "Giselle, I --"

He was cut short, when she simply raised her head and kissed him.

It was a short perfect kiss. When they separated, he noticed a gentle and affectionate look on her face.

"You are not going to get a Third Bed, are you?" she asked shyly, her eyes sparkling.

Robert suddenly stared at her. Lots of puzzle pieces tumbled back into place and he realized all the agitation had been completely unnecessary. His eyebrows touched his hairline with a tiny _Pling_.

"You were so hesitant," she continued, unsure, almost not able to hold his gaze. Her cheeks suddenly had a rosy coloured hue. "So reluctant, so cautious and I was not sure --" She shook her head and then, with the determination of someone wishing to clarify the situation, she asked: "You _are_ not going to buy a Third Bed ..." And with hesitation, she added softly and unsure: "Are you?"

He stared for her for another long moment, his mouth slightly agape, then, while shaking his head, he said the only thing that came into his mind.

"I love you. Very much so. You and Morgan are my life and I," he kissed the tip of her nose and the corner of her mouth. "I ... I think we should move to the bedroom."

He kissed her full on the lips, feeling her smile and she replied happily and eagerly.

The momentum and the steam returned and the next thing he remembered was Giselle stripping him off his shirt, and shortly afterwards, of his undershirt.

_Robert loved that couch. Best couch in the universe,_ he decided, when he heard a slight groan coming from the girl he loved, _and it _was_ comfortable, __but it was not made for two._

She was clinging to him and kissing him, when he got up and pulled her with him. They stumbled some steps, the only clothing left being his boxer shorts and her underwear, until he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

No Third Beds.

Not ever.

The next thing he remembered was waking up the next morning with a naked, beautiful girl in his arms.

Rays of sunshine came streaming through the window, colouring the air golden, and he was clutching at Giselle so desperately, his nose pressing against the side of her neck, while a red strand of her hair was tickling his collar bone.

He moved a bit to look at her. A content expression graced her beautiful face. Her white, immaculate skin seemed to glow, and her swollen lips were opened, just slightly, while hair covered her face, her shoulders, _his_ shoulders like a bronze halo.

He realized then that he would always need her more than she needed him.

Before he could ponder upon the though, a pair of inviting lips captured his and kissed him gently.

"Good morning," Giselle whispered shyly, when they separated.

"Good morning," he murmered, kissing her nose. "Slept well?"

"Oh, _yes,_" she sighed and, after realizing_ what_ she had said and _how_ she had said it, Giselle blushed profoundly.

Robert laughed, a wonderful sound, rumbling through his and her body -- and kissed her again. "Great," he smiled. He removed a strand of her hair from her forehead. "Just wonderful."

They watched each other with a gaze of utter contentment, until Giselle had to giggle and kissed him again.

"We have to fetch Morgan, Robert," Giselle said, drawing another circle on his chest. She seemed to have some strange fascination with his chest hair.

Robert sighed. "I know. I know." Drawing her closer, he stroked her cheek. He skimmed her smooth skin with his forefinger. "I love you, Giselle."

She smiled at him, and sometimes those words, whispered into the comforting silence between the two of them, added a certain vulnerability and Robert saw the wetness in her eyes. "I love you, too," she whispered, through the tears and the smile.

And kissing her, Robert realized that, no matter what some people with a questionable sense of fashion claimed, he did, after all, live in a place where it was indeed possible to have a ...

Happily Ever After.

The End (3/3)


End file.
